Scenes. || Some optimistic ladies. || A mercifully brief history of dial-up modem handshakes. || Today’s words are job satisfaction. || On the thrill of bollards. || Sudden-onset sidewaysness. || All things considered, it was not a great date. || In case there were any doubt as to the kind of creature she is. || Whatever is to hand. || Xerox Hell, in which you ruin photos. || Now is not the best time. || Bear maintenance. || Moon suit, 1960. || Nostrils of Aquachap. || Nuff cuffs. || Incoming. || Incoming 2. || Question asked. || The situation did not improve. || On imitating pigs for fun and profit. || The progressive retail experience, parts 751, 752, 753 and 754. || Proles at home, 1962. || Unsuccessful product, 1982. || Astronaut training. || African snow. || Fearsome beast. || Oh, and meanwhile, in the woods.

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I’m just going to leave this here:

If you’ve ever wondered why the cavalry often turns up late?
Fucking cyclists, it’s always fucking cyclists. 🤣🤣 pic.twitter.com/ImtA56jObt

— Myxy Jeff 🏴󠁧󠁢󠁥󠁮󠁧󠁿 (@MadThom4PM) August 12, 2026

Consider this an open thread. Share ye links and bicker.

Being educated, a graduate, she didn’t understand the question:

Woke reporter SHUTS DOWN my Interview when I expose her as a racist.

She says it is not possible to be racist toward white people. When I show her that simple logic disproves everything she is saying, she is forced to get up & end the conversation. pic.twitter.com/MC3CaCRhzf

— Warren Smith (@WTSmith17) August 10, 2026

“You can’t be racist against white people,” says she, confidently, having just demonstrated precisely the opposite, and then doing it again.

The facial dynamics may also be of interest.

Note madam’s insistence that racism only exists if it’s backed by “power,” the particulars of which remain somewhat unclear – a claim designed to give license to racial minorities and especially black people – pre-emptively and on an indefinite basis – when indulging in racist sentiment or behaviour.

When asked how she came to this perverse and non-reciprocal redefinition, she looks surprised, indeed incredulous. “I went to school,” says she. “I went to university.”

And so, we have an enthusiast of “equity,” a credentialled being, who’s “making sure the standards are the same” by making those standards wildly different, depending on the colour of your skin and therefore how oppressed you must be. Or conversely, how inclined you must be to crush others underfoot, on account of your pallor.

She’s a reporter, you know. Bodes well.

My own definition of “equity,” illustrated many, many times, would be something like equality of outcome regardless of inputs. Inputs including diligence, effort and ability. Which doesn’t sound fair at all.

But as we’ve seen, the church of “equity” requires elaborate mental contortion, via which, “granting access” entails denying access – say, by shutting down advanced courses for gifted pupils – and among devotees, “whiteness” is the go-to pejorative, a thing to be corrected, and for which the sinfully pale are expected to atone.

There’s a through-the-looking-glass quality.

A fun-house mirror malevolence that’s illustrated here.

Should further, real-world illustrations of “equity” be required, a compendium can be found here, including the outlawing of even basic tests of teacher competence, on grounds of “disparate impact,” and firefighters who cannot read the instructions on their own safety equipment.

Update:

Oh, and should any readers have assumed that the exchange above is some one-off aberration, there are other wonders to behold.

Needless to say, a pattern emerges.

And in cross-dressing-men-relocating-faeces news:

Man pretending to be a woman says he wants “every trans person in the UK to be given a poo bucket” so they can cover the office of the Equalities and Human Rights Commission with their feces, as a protest against guidance preserving single-sex spaces pic.twitter.com/8JVFSFptgl

— Genevieve Gluck (@WomenReadWomen) August 9, 2026

For those of you assuming that the above is some cunning AI satire intended to diminish the credibility of cross-dressing men, I have news. Those of you wishing to keep track of the project’s success can do so here.

383 signatures at the time of writing.

The shimmering vision of womanliness seen above is Mr Lucy Rose Shaftain-Fenner, a filmmaker whose films are, it turns out, chiefly about himself, and whose interests include the “liberation” of Palestine, violating women’s boundaries, and “taxing wealth.”

When not declaring his personal hotness, Mr Shaftain-Fenner engages in many feats of radicalism, including cutting up Harry Potter DVDs in an attempt to reduce the number of future Harry Potter fans, intruding in women’s toilets, denouncing the misogyny and catcalling he allegedly endures, and listing his quite numerous mental health shortcomings.

So, hey, nothing to worry about, ladies.

Update, via the comments:

Readers may be amused by Mr Shaftain-Fenner’s repeated use of the word fantasy, which seems a bit rich, all things considered.

Noting Mr Shaftain-Fenner’s claims of injustice and persecution, Jen adds, not unreasonably,

Or of course the disabled toilets, which are both unisex and generally nicer. But chappie seems bent on using women’s toilets, thereby imposing his delusions on women. Which does rather suggest that the imposition is the goal. A key component of his mental drama.

Indeed, Mr Shaftain-Fenner seems remarkably uninterested in whether ladies might object to his intrusion, his violation of their boundaries. Or indeed in why they might do so.

For instance, some ladies may not wish to share an intimate space with weird, cross-dressing men who feel entitled to violate normal boundaries, and who, statistically, are much more prone to other, more serious kinds of boundary violation. Examples of which are not hard to find.

But to pull at that thread might unravel the whole frock. As it were.

Previously in the world of powder-room dramas.

The radical relocation of bodily waste by cross-dressing men – specifically, spraying children with urine – has, perhaps unsurprisingly, been touched on here before.

Confounding house numbers, 1961. || “Dad, you can carry big rocks.” || Dawn upwardsness. || It’s possible they went too far. || The formidable Miss Whiplash. || Boy Wonder, big pants, Batman in a jam, 1943. || “Photography not permitted.” || Japanese people encounter Marmite. || Mole relocation. || For manly striding. || “White empiricism” oppresses magic black womanliness, claims bint featured here. || At last, Star Wars… in Welsh. || Mauler parses the moral logic of the latest Spider-Man film. || It’s all in the neck. || Look away now. || The Englishwoman and the Horse, 1981. || Visible roots. || A tour of ancient Rome. || You want one and you know it. || I’m not sure what to call this. || For children of all ages. || Blinky. || And finally, the thrill of smoking toad venom. “Relax,” says he. “Feel the love.”

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